Wounded Bird
by Nathan Huss
Summary: [Exalted] The chronicles of Blind Thrush, a wanderer in Creation. Updated with Chapter 2 and a revised Chapter 1.
1. prologue

Disclaimer: Surprisingly, any and all characters here do belong to me, though the setting itself does not. That belongs to White Wolf Publishing and the people who own that.

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Wounded Bird

An Exalted-based story

By Nathan Huss

/----------/

"_Run little bird... run..."_

And Thrush did run. Out of the room, away from the body that had once been his Master, and away from the demon that had slain him. His face displayed no emotion, but terror gripped his heart.

His Master was- had been a Prince of the Earth, a Dragon-Blood. Banished from his home in the Realm, the man had ever since been looking for a way to gain revenge on those that had brought his current status about.

For all his life that he could remember, Thrush had lived with his Master in a place of iron and heat and angles. It had been the only life he had known, but in spite of that (and his Master's speeches of how he had saved Thrush from being killed as a baby by his own mother) he always felt a sensation of discomfort and discontent, though he never voiced such.

"_Too slow, little bird. Much too slow. You have to be faster than this, yesssssss...?" The sound of claws harder than metal clacking on the stone floor and dragging across the walls could be heard behind him._

Thrush had never been outside the manse, and indeed would have no idea what to expect beyond the outermost walls. But from years spent cleaning, searching, and performing other tasks in his service he knew every inch of the interior. Concealed passages, hidden doors, small vents, and more were used to try and escape the fiend behind him.

"_Clever little bird. You finally make this at least somewhat challenging..."_

Aside from those duties, he had assisted his Master in other ways, providing assistance with preparing spells and such, assisting with research, and similar arcane tasks. There were also his Dreams...

Though not often, or regularly, Thrush would Dream of things. Things that his Master said were from the outside world, though distorted and warped by Thrush's unconscious mind. All too often they would be of things his Master could not interpret or use to his advantage, but every so often some morsel of foreknowledge would come up that would send the Prince of the Earth into a fervor of action and plotting.

Thrush had had such a Dream just three nights before, which had given his Master cause to almost immediately make preparations for summoning a demon. This demon, which had...

_A taloned hand shot out from a hallway, clipping Thrush across the shoulder. He immediately turned and ran back the other way, clutching a hand to the wound. He made no cry from the pain, nor did he flinch._

He had known that something had gone wrong. His master had been struggling with the demon far longer than he usually would have to. Sitting in a corner of the summoning room, Thrush had lifted the blindfold he was always made to wear when his Master was conducting feats of sorcery. The Dragon-Blood had been sweating heavily, his gaze locked with that of the demon.

The small movement somehow caught his Master's notice. He had looked into Thrush's eyes, and in that moment it was over. A growl, a sudden lunge, and a gout of blood sprang from his Master's chest. As the demon shook the corpse from its claw, it turned to face the young boy. It had spoken four words...

It was no use. Now the demon seemed to be in front of him at every turn, leering maliciously as Thrush would scamper off in a different direction to try and escape it.

Having no other place to go, he ran for the heart of the manse. The demon seemed content to let him do so, as they both knew he was only prolonging his eventual death. He reached the central room after several more minutes and close encounters. Thrush pulled the doors shut and crouched in a far corner away from the door, as he listened to the harsh scraping of the door. A pause, and then the metal hinges shattered as the portal was ripped open. The large crystal chandelier in the center of the ceiling cast an eerie glow across the creatures face.

"So the little bird has run out of room to fly," it said in a sickening voice. "A pity..."

It looked at him from just outside the room. "You did well enough... better than most, little bird... Should I reward you?" Its head twisted about until it was nearly upside down, before righting itself. "Yesssssss... a reward, but at a price." It grinned, showing row upon row of jagged teeth.

"Your eyes... Such interesting things... Give them to me and you shall live. Give me your right eye, and I will leave your arms intact. Give me your left eye, and I will spare your legs. Give me both, and you be left unharmed."

Thrush just tried to wedge himself deeper into the corner, as if he were attempting to sink into the metal and stone.

"Such a deal you will never again find, little bird... Give them to me, or I will take them and kill you anyway. Choose quickly," it said, as it stepped into the room...

* * *

"Wake up, young sir. We've arrived," a voice said.

He jolted up, and saw only darkness.

"You all right there?"

"Yes. I am fine. We have reached town, you said?" he asked in a monotone voice.

"Aye, that we have. You only paid enough to go this far, so I'm afraid you'll have to get off 'ere."

He nodded, and reached for his pack beside him.

"You sure you all right? You were mumbling and tossing something awful there. A bad dream, was it?"

"No, not a dream," Blind Thrush said as he hefted his pack. Adjusting the thick silk band covering his upper face, he groped for his staff. "Just memories..."

/----------/

Author's Notes:

Blind Thrush was the first character I had created in the Exalted setting after purchasing the Player's Guide. He's wasn't meant for actual gameplay, more to just see how things could work out with the various additions and changes.

Somehow, though, he became one of my favorite characters. Since I knew I would never actually use him for anything else, I decided recently to do a story telling what would have been his backstory, as well as what I like to think would have happened to him.

Any who wish to try and guess what he is are free to. There might even be a small prize for guessing right.

In any case, read and review. Next chapter will be done... er... at some point.


	2. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: See prologue. It still applies in full.

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Wounded Bird  
An Exalted-based story  
by Nathan Huss

/----------/

Blind Thrush sat on the side of a street. He did not know what city he was in. In a way, it did not matter. It was not a large city, like Nexus or Great Forks, but neither was it small enough to be considered merely a town. It was a city, and that meant that he would be able to ply his chosen trade easily enough.

He had set before him a large woven cloth, on which he had placed a ceramic bowl off to the side. In the center of the cloth were a collection of what some might consider trinkets, but had a much more important purpose than mere decoration. Specially carved pieces of bone and stone, some shaped by human hands and others by time and nature. Smooth wooden sticks and disks etched with runes and sigils. Fragments of gemstones, otherwise worthless but having formed into mystically significant shapes.

For the price of a decent meal, Blind Thrush would tell you your fortune.

The method he used was not as widely-known or powerful as astrology, but the casting of lots was a technique that someone without use of vision could perform with practice. And he had had a good deal of practice.

It was just after mid-day, and the crowds that flowed through the nearby market were picking back up after most had left for lunch just a short time earlier. Blind Thrush had done the fortunes for several people earlier in the day (a worried mother who wondered how her son was faring after leaving the city, a young man who was looking to see if he should try to woo a girl that he was fond of, and others asking about things of a similar vein), and was waiting to see if he would get any more customers before packing up for the day.

As the people came and went around him, Blind Thrush turned his mind to various stray thought... What to have for dinner, how much longer he would stay in town, which direction he would head in once he did leave. Anything else was dismissed as inconsequential: these aspects of survival are what came first in his life. Anything else was secondary.

Except, however, for the light scuffling sound that was just a touch too close to…

Blind Thrush's hand shot out, grabbing a thin wrist. Coins jangled on the cobblestone of the street as the person that had attempted to take them from Thrush's bowl jolted in shock.

"Stealing from the sightless," the soothsayer said flatly, "requires silence."

"Yessir! I mean, nossir! I…"

With a sudden tug, the young thief pulled free and scurried off into the crowd.

Unable to follow, and not caring to anyway, Blind Thrush began skimming the ground trying to recover as many coins as he could.

"Here," a female voice said. Thrush turned toward it, and felt a handful of coins being pushed into his palms. "I picked up as many as I could find. I'm afraid a fair number were snatched up by others..."

"My thanks," he replied as he took the metal coins. As he slowly made his way back to his spot, he felt though them to find out how many were now gone.

"I can't see where that thief got to," the woman said. She sounded young, but not so much. Eastern, from her accent.

"It does not matter. You tried." He returned to his former seat and counted the coins that had managed to remain in the bowl. He was missing a little over one-fourth of what had been in the bowl before the thief's attempt.

He heard the woman moving next to him as he moved the remaining coins to a pouch. "Do you wish for me to tell your fortune?" he asked without facing her direction.

"What? I... no..." she said, a bit flustered. "I was just..."

"Fall!" a loud voice suddenly broke in from further in the crowds. "Quit bugging the blind guy and get over here! We're going to start soon!"

The woman started at the call, but shouted back, "Just hold on!" Addressing Blind Thrush again, she said, "Sorry about that."

Thrush said nothing, just repositioning his bowl and the various items on the cloth. When he didn't hear her move, he spoke. "He sounds impatient."

Neither of them said anything further, and after a few moments the shuffling of her shoes made their way in the direction the man had called from earlier.

Blind Thrush continued to sit as people walked to and fro along the street. After several minutes, he heard the opening strains of music twining through the crowd. A guitar, some form of drum, and singing. A not unusual occurrence in cities like this; people trying to make some money from the crowds, just as he was, only using a different service to do so.

Unfortunately for the performers, they were dependant on the good will of those listening to receive money. It was completely likely that people would just listen, and go on their way without paying even a single silver bit. At least Thrush's occupation meant that any wanting his services would have to pay up front.

After about half an hour, the music stopped. It had been nice enough, and between pieces there had been polite clapping some in the crowd. Still hearing the occasional 'twang' of the guitar, it seemed that the performers were not finished, but only taking a break.

Blind Thrush gathered up the varied items on his cloth, and with familiar movements placed them in his pack. Standing, he took his staff and pack and headed toward where the music had been coming from earlier. He was pushed around by several people, but no more than the normal amount of jostling one would expect in a marketplace. Soon enough he reached a clear area, and heard voices, two of which were familiar.

"... I mean come on, look at this," said a male voice, irritation coming through his tone. "We got at least twice this much the last place. What do they want, a full orchestra before they shell out some half-decent money?"

"Ballan..." Another male voice, this one somewhat foreign in accent. Northern, perhaps, though Thrush still couldn't quite place it. "It's just the way it went, yes? We've gotten worse than this before, you should know. Can't expect to get the same amount every performance."

The first voice, 'Ballan,' let out a sigh of frustration. "We were doing good, though! Right, Fall? I mean, you messed up that one line in 'The Road of Gleaming Jade,' but that was hardly noticeable..."

"What do you mean, I messed it up?" The woman who had helped him retrieve his coins. "If anything, it was... um..." She trailed off. "Um... hello again..."

Thrush nodded in her direction. "Your guitar is out of tune. You fumbled no less than twice in basic sections of the last song."

The three performers went silent, and even without vision Thrush could tell that they were staring at him.

"What do you know, blind man?" Ballan grated out. "Why don't you go back to begging on the street corner? We know what we're doing."

"Ballan, don't..." the other man said. "Look at his..."

"I don't care! Coming over here and telling me I don't know how to do this..."

"I am not a beggar," Thrush interrupted calmly. "I pointed out several mistakes made causing you to receive lessened donations."

"And I suppose that you can do better, blind man?" Ballan retorted.

"Please, don't..." the woman began.

"No! If he thinks he can do better than I did, I'd like to see it."

"I could do better."

"Fine, then." A wooden object was pushed at Thrush. "Here. Let's see if you can back up your words."

Blind Thrush took the item, a guitar, and searched for a place to put down his possessions.

"Here," Fall said, taking his arm. She led him over to a bench, where he sat down after putting his pack and staff to the side.

He nodded his head in her direction. Then turning his attention back to the instrument, he plucked at the strings. Quietly, slowly, he tightened or loosened them.

"Come on, blind man, we haven't got all day."

Thrush tilted his head in Ballan's direction. "I am called Blind Thrush."

And then he began to play.

It was one of the songs that the musicians had played earlier. A common song to the region, one that was in favor among the average man. Blind Thrush performed it flawlessly, adding flourishes and improvised changes that adding to the feelings brought on by the notes. Even though his face remained as neutral and blank as a statue's, the music itself seemed to have a life of its own.

As he finished the song, there was a massive amount of applause around them. Numerous coins were heard falling into whatever receptacle the performers were collecting money in, as Thrush laid the guitar down carefully beside him. Fall could be heard thanking the people in a joyful tone as they complemented the performance.

"That... you..." Ballan stuttered. "But how!?"

"I learned to play several instruments years ago. The guitar was among those." Blind Thrush set the instrument down on the bench next to him.

Ballan made a frustrated sound before walking back over to where Fall and the other man were thanking the various people who were contributing money. Thrush sat for a few moments longer, listening to the dull clamor of the street, before grabbing his pack and walking staff. Standing, he began walking off. While he received some congratulations on his performance by some people, most kept out of his way as he left the square.

Before he passed out of hearing distance, Thrush heard Fall's voice. "Where… where'd Blind Thrush go?"

He continued walking.

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Well, I had managed to write myself into something of a dead end with the previous version of this chapter. So, I reworked it, adding and removing a few things here and there, and changed the end. All in all, I believe it's better. Plus, I managed to write the next chapter working off of this a lot easier.

Anywho, thanks for reading, please feel free to let me know what you all think of this, and read the next chapter (and the rest of my fics).


	3. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: Still don't own Exalted. White Wolf Publishing does. I do own all the characters within, though.

As a note, anyone who has been following this should go back and reread chapter 1, as there has been a fairly considerable rewrite, especially at the end. This chapter is based off of the revised closing of chapter 1, so if you don't read that you may end up a bit confused.

/----------/

Wounded Bird  
An Exalted-based story  
By Nathan Huss

/----------/

"There he is! I see him!"

Blind Thrush tilted his face away from the bowl of stew in front of him as he heard the recently-familiar voice carry over the din of the tavern. Even though the place was decently filled as various customers had their dinners, he could almost hear the trio of footsteps coming toward the small table where he sat.

He brought the spoon out of the bowl and ate another mouthful of the stew, before putting the utensil down to the side and waiting.

"We've been looking for you," Fall said as they finally reached him. Behind her, Ballan muttered something about not wanting to waste time looking for the blindfolded man in the first place.

"You had just disappeared all of the sudden, and no one knew where you had gone," Fall continued. "We…" She paused for a second, and Thrush could hear her move briefly. "Well… Alsef and me, at least, wanted to thank you."

Blind Thrush simply gave a little nod.

After a few moments, Ballan started grumbling. "Look, just give it to him and let's get out of here."

Fall sighed softly, and there was a soft 'clink' as something was put onto the table. "We thought you should get at least some of what we got when you played, so…"

"It is yours," Thrush said, speaking for the first time since they had arrived. "Keep it."

"You're the one who was doing the music playing at the time," said the third member of the performers. 'Alsef' Fall had said. "You deserve to get your share of it."

"Had I wanted money, I would have stayed and asked," Thrush replied.

There was a quick movement and the clink of coins again. "See, I told you we didn't need to waste all that time looking for him," Ballan said. "And from the looks of it he won't give a damn about the rest, so let's just get-"

"Rest of what?" Blind Thrush interrupted calmly, his head tilted towards Fall's position.

"Well, you see..." she mumbled.

Alsef made a noise that sounded like a cross between a sigh and a chuckle. "Thing of it is, we were wondering if you'd be at all interested in performing with us. Even Ballan here." Said man grumbled slightly, but did not actually speak. "Plain and simple, you're good, and that means more money."

Blind Thrush seemed to consider this for a moment. "What do you do?"

"Huh?"

"Do you play only music, or other forms of performance?" Blind Thrush asked.

"Nah, we do some of everything," Ballan said. "Music, singing, acting, whatever brings in some coin. Mostly music, though."

"Where are you going?"

Ballan was quiet for a second, before answering. "Northward. Nexus, maybe. It's only a couple weeks travel. Do a couple performances in Marukan on the way. After that…"

"When do you depart?"

"Well, I was thinking of the day after…" Ballan paused. "Why in the fucking name of the Dragons am I telling you all this? Look, are you going to come with us or not?"

"I am to perform an augury for a client tomorrow evening," Thrush said, not answering the question. "I will have decided by the morning after."

"If you think we're going to just wait around until…!"

The three performers took a few steps back (though Ballan's footfalls made it seem like he was being partially pulled). They began to whisper to each other, thinking that Blind Thrush could not hear them.

"He's talking about the day we were planning to go," Alsef said in a placating tone. "It's not like we wouldn't be around still."

"That's not the point!" Ballan hissed. "He's making us wait on him whether or not we would still be around."

Fall spoke up next. "He already said that he had an appointment with someone. It's not like he could just cancel that. And like Alsef said, it's not like we were going to be leaving before that anyway."

"And I said that that wasn't the point," Ballan retorted. "I know you've managed to get yourself this… thing… about him, but I'm still the damn leader here, and I don't like being made to wait on something I wasn't all that keen on in the first damn place."

"You still went and agreed to it," Alsef said. "Look, your feelings on this aside, we really don't have anywhere to be. You were thinking of getting the cart wheel replaced, right? We can do that easy now, and we just wait for him to answer."

The three of them turned back to Thrush, who was still sitting calmly at the table. His hands were folded in his lap under the table as he faced forward, just to the side of where they actually were.

"All right, all right…" Ballan grumbled. "Morning after next you tell us. We'll be at the north road just after breakfast. There's a small caravan that's supposed to be coming through tomorrow, and we're going to pick up with them for a while. You're late, I'm sure as hell not going to try and stop them from going."

Blind Thrush nodded. "I understand."

"Yeah… C'mon, let's go."

The three of them headed back toward the entrance. Thrush could just pick up Fall's words as they left: "I do not have a… thing… about-"

The fortuneteller picked up his spoon and scooped up some of the stew. He ate it for a moment, before putting it back down. It was cold.

He lifted his hand to draw a server's attention. When one finally noticed and hurried over, he quietly asked for a new bowl.

/----------/

Well, another chapter done. As always, constructive C&C and general applause (if there is any) is welcomed.

I'll try to work a bit quicker on the next chapter of… well… any of my fics.


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